


sing me to sleep

by bucktrungle



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Rekka no Ken | Fire Emblem: Blazing Sword
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M, idk what else to tag this as, they're on a boat, this takes place after the dread isle chapter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-16
Updated: 2020-04-16
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:47:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,608
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23684131
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bucktrungle/pseuds/bucktrungle
Summary: Eliwood lost everything on that island. Knowing the feeling all too well, Hector’s only wish is to support the person dearest to him.
Relationships: Eliwood/Hector (Fire Emblem)
Kudos: 26





	sing me to sleep

Ever since they’d set foot on board to leave that cursed island, the waves had been roaring in anger, the winds howling in anguish. Tonight, especially so. Much like the people on board the ship, it was almost as if the ocean, too, was grieving.

Hector had certainly heard his fair share of tales from sailors and merchants that roam the Ostian harbours, but he could never have imagined that the weather at sea could be _this_ rough, nor had he ever hoped to experience it first-hand—he’d never been much of sea dog.

But Hector couldn’t care less about tonight’s awful weather or the crew on deck desperately trying to triumph it. Hell, the entire _world_ could flood right about now and he wouldn’t care—he had much more important things to worry about. It was about Eliwood, and it _always_ had been, but now more so than ever before. He was the one thing on his mind, and had been ever since that fiend had robbed his best friend of his father right in front of his eyes. 

As if Leila’s death hadn’t been enough, the one thing that Hector wouldn’t wish on his worst enemy had now happened to the person he cared most for.

For as long as he could, Eliwood had stayed by his father’s side, holding his hand as if it would somehow blow life back into him. Hector didn’t fault him for it, and neither did anyone else—the entire army was grief-struck by Elbert’s death.

Rather than feeling mournful however, Hector experienced a different kind of grief than most—he was _furious_. The mere thought of those villains doing those horrific things and _getting away with it unpunished_ had initially left Hector completely blinded by pure, unfiltered, seething rage, directed at everything and everyone— _gods_ , the things he’d _do_ to those brutes, had he the chance—but being stuck at sea had slowly shifted his mood from uncontrollable anger to complete hopelessness, as he slowly came to the realisation that he was rendered powerlessness. There was absolutely _nothing_ he could do to save his best friend’s father, and after he had _promised_ him that they’d get him back safely, too. And after how _close_ they had gotten to saving him. But the reality was that Eliwood’s father was gone, and there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it.

_You couldn’t save any of them._

Hector had gotten so occupied with blaming himself for it, repeating the scene over and over in his head, analysing step by step what he could have done differently, to a point where he hadn’t even considered how _Eliwood_ must be feeling—only when he’d hear the other lord’s soft sobs through the dense wooden walls late at night, had it hit him. Even with the wall between them, the soul-piercing sound of his friend’s cries was deafening to Hector’s ears, and had easily drowned out the thunderous noise of the waves crashing against the ship’s flanks. It was bad enough to keep him awake at night—a fact Hector didn’t care much for, as sleep had been avoiding him regardless. He could never sleep soundly knowing that his dearest friend was suffering.

It _killed_ Hector inside not being able to answer his friend’s cries—all he could do was sit against the wall that separated them as if his presence would somehow reach Eliwood on the other side, listening and imagining what he was going through. But there was no way he could reach him, as the other boy had locked himself inside his cabin, with his most trusted knight dutifully guarding his lord’s room. Hector had demanded and eventually _pleaded_ the old man to let him in, but he would not budge. The only thing he could do was ask him for any updates on Eliwood’s condition, which were often delivered by a defeated headshake from the veteran knight. Even Marcus was only able to communicate with his lord very occasionally, and he himself was clearly downdraught by the situation as well. A long-time friend of the Pheraen family, Hector knew that Elbert’s death must have taken a toll on his wellbeing too—the bags under his eyes betrayed his fatigue, yet the stubborn old man had refused anyone who would offer to substitute for him. Hector knew this, because he himself would offer to every morning, and every time the headstrong guard had sternly turned him down. Perhaps for the better, because Hector doubted that he’d been able to stop himself from smashing in the door and checking up on Eliwood himself, no matter how much Marcus would undoubtedly scold him for it.

But Hector was starting to lose his patience, because it wasn’t _enough_ , he wasn’t doing enough for Eliwood. Thoughts and words were futile—he wanted to _feel_ it. It didn’t matter how or when or whether it was even the right thing to do, but he wanted nothing more than to just _let Eliwood know_. It’s all he’s been able to think about the moment his companion had shut himself in to process his grief. _I understand._ That was all he wanted him to know.

Not only that, but he knew for a fact that Eliwood had been neglecting himself. He’d always had a habit of looking after others while ignoring his own needs, and Marcus had told him that the boy had been rejecting all his meals. What’s more, the young man had always been an insomniac, and Hector was willing to bet that the current situation had only amplified his sleeping troubles. 

Out of frustration of feeling so powerless, Hector had grown restless and would recently spend more time pondering on deck of the sizeable ship—anything to keep his mind off his friend’s howls that haunted him at night. Usually, he was not the only one with that idea, as he’d often run into a certain Sacaen girl. Sometimes, he would join her side, watching the wind violently tug on the long strands of emerald-coloured hair that she’d tie behind her head, though neither of them ever wasted a single breath on words. They had already exhausted everything there is to say on the topic a long time ago.

Another time while making his way out of the ship’s sleeping chambers, Hector had found that pale dragon girl collapsed on the ground in front of Eliwood’s cabin. Slumped against the door, her face buried in her hands, bright long hair covering her face like closed curtains. Her body shaking as she sobbed silently. Marcus kneeled next to her as he attempted to console the young girl. Hector had simply walked right past the scene, but somehow he could not get the image out of his mind.

_There are so many people that care for you._

Tonight, things were different—Hector could feel it. With the storm raging outside, most in their group had either decided to remain in their cabins for safety, or to lend a hand on board for those who could—Hector himself probably belonging to the latter group, but he trusted that those pirates knew what they were doing out there, as he had more important matters to attend to.

Having left his own chamber, Hector had found the poorly lit hallway to be completely empty, and assumed that Marcus had been called up to help combat the storm on deck.

This was his chance.

Hector ducks back into his cabin to grab the lantern off his nightstand, and makes his way over to Eliwood’s room.

Putting an ear against the cabin’s door, Hector hears the sound that has grown all too familiar. A sound that he hates, but at the same time is relieved to hear.

He doesn’t waste another second and knocks on the wooden door. “Eli, it’s me,” he calls out to his friend.

The sobbing stops abruptly, and Hector swears he can feel his heart stop for a brief moment.

Dead silence.

“I’m coming in, alright?”

Still nothing but silence.

Without further hesitation, Hector tries to push the door in and is successful, slightly surprised that it had not been locked or barricaded from the inside.

As he steps inside the small room, the wooden floor creaks underneath his weight, and he sees nothing but pitch-black darkness. The small flame burning inside the lantern does not help much in lighting up the room. 

As his eyes adjust to the absence of light, his other senses immediately catch up to him—particularly his sense of smell. The room reeks of sweat and oil, and something foul and sour that Hector can’t quite place. He can’t be bothered to care and continues to move forward, his right hand reaching out for anything tangible—hopefully Eliwood.

“Eliwood,” he calls out to him again, his tone soft but not quite a whisper.

The lack of response worries him, and he quickens his pace over to where he assumes the bed would be based on the interior of his own sleeping chamber. In the process, the rocking of the ship puts him off-balance and he feels his foot kick against something tin that seems to have liquid in it, but he pays it no mind.

Finally, Hector reaches the bed, and sighs in relief as he can faintly feel the warmth of the other boy’s breath near his forearm. 

He can barely make him out in the lantern’s faint light, but before him sits Eliwood, unmistakably. In this darkness, his skin is pale enough to mistake for a ghostly apparition. His body is slumped over and his head hangs low. His blouse seems to stick to his torso like dried mud. Outside, the storm rages on, but somehow Hector can’t hear a thing.

The sight of his best friend in his current state tears his heart apart.

Hector gulps and kneels before the bed in an attempt to meet his friend face to face. Eliwood simply remains in the same still position, messy strands of red hair covering his face.

Hector moves the lantern closer in an attempt to illuminate Eliwood’s face, and hesitantly reaches out his free hand to brush the boy’s hair aside. Eliwood lets him, and what he sees shocks him to his core.

The sapphire eyes that would light up when the two of them encountered each other on a stroll through camp, that would look at him filled with fiery passion during their sparring matches, those beautiful eyes that put blue skies to _shame_ , are now void of any colour, emotion or life.

Hector feels a pit form in his stomach as he realises that Eliwood isn’t present.

A state of instant panic overcoming him, Hector’s instinct leads him to move on his own as he puts the lantern on the ground and places himself on the bed next to the other boy, impulsively reaching out for Eliwood’s shoulders in an attempt to shake him out of his current state.

After a while, Eliwood slightly lifts up his head and his blank expression begins to change as he starts blinking repeatedly. Hector immediately lets go of the red-headed boy, allowing his mind to catch up to his body.

Eliwood finally meets Hector’s gaze, and stares at him with a puzzled look on his face, as if trying to identify the figure that sits before him in the dark.

“Hector,” he says at last, barely loud enough to be considered audible over the howling of the wind outside, but Hector has read that word off his lips so many times that he didn’t need sound to hear it.

In that moment, Hector is overwhelmed with pure joy, knowing that his friend is still in there.

“Hector,” he says it again and then once more, a hint of confusion in his voice as if he’s just returned to earth for the first time in months.

“Yes!” Hector responds impulsively and a bit too loudly, but he simply can’t contain his enthusiasm at seeing his friend again after everything they’ve been through recently.

A moment of silence passes between the two as Eliwood’s expression rapidly fluctuates from sad to a weak smile to sombre again, as if he can’t decide on what to feel, and it doesn’t matter that Hector can’t read him because it’s _still Eliwood_ in there, and that’s all that matters.

Before Hector is even aware of it, he suddenly feels the other boy’s body limply pressed against his own, his head resting on his shoulder. At first, Hector is shocked, thinking that maybe Eliwood had fainted or lost balance, but as soon as he feels two arms weakly embracing his back he can’t help but let out a sigh of pure relief.

Eliwood then continues his weeping as he does every night, but this time Hector doesn’t listen to it through the wall, and though the sound of it pains him all the same, at least now he can _feel_ it. He feels the heat of Eliwood’s breath on his skin, the warm tears leaking through the fabric of his shirt, and two cold hands meekly holding onto his back. Hector places one hand on the back of Eliwood’s head, the greasy strands of red hair falling through his fingers, and pulls him closer with his other arm. 

Hector closes his eyes and breathes in deeply to regain his calmness. As he does, he can feel Eliwood’s hair tickle his nose, and the smell of days old sweat enters his nostrils, but he couldn’t care less, because Eliwood is here—he’s hurt and he’s broken but he’s _real_ and he’s _still here_.

 _I understand_. He doesn’t say it, but he hopes that somehow, it transfers anyway. Because he does, better than anyone in this whole world.

* * *

For the first time since setting foot on board, Hector wakes up to complete silence. Or so it seems, but as his senses awaken from the first night of sleep he’s had in a long time, he starts to notice the details of his environment—he hears the waves splashing against the flanks of the wooden ship, feels how they gently rock the vessel back and forth on the water. The distant crying of seagulls, high up in the air. He had gotten so used to the violent sounds of the sea’s tempest, that he’d almost forgotten the sound and feel of calm waters. 

Against his closed eyelids, he feels a faint, but warm light beam down. He’s on his back and his body feels somewhat heavier and warmer than usual, and something is tickling against his chest. He breathes in deeply, and smells Eliwood’s scent. Hector can’t help but smile.

Finally opening his eyes, Hector registers a red blur on top of him and sighs in relief. Eliwood is soundly asleep, barely making a sound, but he can feel his nose softly blow air against his chest. The single ray of light seeping through a crack illuminates the left side of Eliwood’s face—he’s much paler and thinner than before and it hurts him to see his friend this way, but the light freckles dancing on his nose and cheeks betray that’s it’s still Eliwood, as do the ruby-coloured locks of hair that are sprawled out across his chest. They’re unwashed and longer than Hector remembers them to be, and it reminds him of how long and exhausting their journey has been up until now, and how much they must have ahead of them.

Hector throws back his head and closes his eyes again, lingering in the moment for as long as possible.

_If it’s with you, I’ll go anywhere._


End file.
